We were best friends.
Laughing, deep talks, karaoke
Carried on for years.

You were my everything.
I told you all my thoughts
Feelings too, with hesitation
You cared for me, as I for you

More years went by
Graduations, jobs, life.
The weight of the workforce
Crushed my authenticity.

One year ago:
Less talks, less love, more distance
Pulled in two directions
The rope was neglected.
What was there to do?

Time for a big life change
Wedding bells in the distance
I was eager, excited, happy
To be part of it
What happened?

You said, “I don’t recognize you anymore”
Shock. Grief. Confusion.
I’m still me

Depression stole my words.
Anxiety gripped the wheel
I watched as our bond unraveled
An old rope, strand by strand.
I tried to hold it together,
But it slipped through my hands.

We were friends.
But not how you wanted it
Compliance was priority
I am self indulgent.

I am a liar too,
Of what? I do not know.
Public humiliation, hurt, shame
“My wedding isn’t about you”
I was defending myself,
from your apathetic words.

The only option left
Is suffocating silence
Heavy with nothingness
I am sorry this all happened.
And still
I don’t know why.

Storms are good
They bring life to dying wildlife
Will it do the same to me?

Storms are loud
They wake me in the night
Flashing light in the covered windows
Shocking me into reality

They are vicious
Sideways Winds whistle their secrets
To oblivious ears
Will they take me as their victim?

Let them take me
My reality is not valuable
To anyone.
Electric power seizes
Leaving me with darkness and intrusive thoughts.

Summer starts to end
So does my happiness
Heavy clouds cover the warmth
That I relied on
To keep the depression at bay.

Days and days pass
No relief to speak of
Storms unwilling to leave
Like a toxic partner
Standing by the open door.

When the frost settles
My coat and scarves shed
A metamorphosis of hope
My soul becomes alive once again

A thawed ground now holds
A seed ready to grow
By Demeter’s sweet hands.
We are the same.

The cycle of death and life
Endless and inevitable
Blurry lines, forever changing
Hope will always return to you.

They used to say:
Eyes are the window to the soul
But now
Phones are a reflection of
Who you are

Gone are the days
Of courting and community
Replaced by
Hookups and hallucinations.

Relationships are
Reduced to “situationships”
Each swipe diminishing
anything real.

What do we have left?
We bury ourselves in our phones
Rather than look
Each other in the eye.

You lose if you show feelings
The grass should be greener,
On the other side,
Yet it is rotted.
It’s a cruel game.

I hope this is what you wanted.
If only we could take our phones
To the grave.